Dreams in Which I'm Dying
by BlindingFirefly
Summary: Random reflections from Harry and his friends both during and directly after the world, based on Mad World. A little depressing, but worth reading.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Rowling's.

Note: I know that this is slightly depressing, but it spoke to me. The song is "Mad World" by Gary Jules. Please, hit the review button and tell me what you think!

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry Potter looked about him in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Mrs. Weasley had long had her reign in this room, and it was spotlessly clean. She had even wheedled her sons into painting it a cheery yellow, a vast difference from the drab walls of Sirius' childhood. But the yellow paint couldn't disguise the hopeless looks on the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Remus Lupin sat beside his wife, Tonks, at the kitchen table. She had just brought her husband his steaming goblet of Wolfsbane potion, and after he had chugged it down in one gulp, they had both reached for cups of coffee. Lupin's hair was even grayer than it had been when Harry had first met him; and Tonks' own hair was no longer the vibrant pinks and reds of yesteryear, but was a dull brown. They looked tired and old.

Hermione and Ron sat together on the other side of the table, and Harry could tell from their postures that they were holding hands beneath its wooden surface. Hermione's hair had been tamed and pinned on top of her head, a definite deviance from the childhood bush that threatened to take over everything about her. Her fingers were long and graceful, and her face had been finely formed during her last few years of puberty. Harry could see that Hermione was a girl no longer, but a young woman. He imagined that Hermione must look a great deal like his own mother had when she had married James Potter. There was one difference, however. In the picture of James and Lily's wedding day, Lily's face had shone with joy and laughter. Hermione's face was creased with worry and strain.

Ron, too, had become an adult. He was taller than anybody else in the room, including Harry. His fiery red hair had not dulled since his youth, but his face was much calmer and quieter than it had been. His feet and hands weren't too big for him, anymore, but they were too small to bear the burdens of anxiety and sorrow that had been placed upon him. Not only was he now a man with the full responsibility of the Order of the Phoenix, but he was engaged to Hermione, and wanted to keep her safe as well.

And on and on the list went, and Harry felt his spirit being weighed down by the depression in the room. No matter how hard they fought, no matter how much they spied and plotted against the enemy, they never seemed to make any progress. Voldemort was continually ready for them, always prepared to knock them over from behind. It was like fighting a ghost, which, Harry thought, they pretty much were.

_All around me are familiar faces  
Worn out places, worn out faces  
Bright and early for their daily races  
Going nowhere, going nowhere_

"We all knew that this day would come eventually," said Bill Weasley, breaking the deadly silence. "We all knew that eventually someone would die. It was inevitable."

"Death is inevitable, Bill," spat out Hermione bitterly. "Being murdered isn't. No one deserves to be killed so unjustly, and it isn't right."

"I didn't mean that, Hermione, I only meant…"

Lupin's quiet voice broke through the chaos. "Children, please. You're both right, so you're not doing any good to anyone in arguing. Murder is senseless and cruel, but Bill is correct. It was inevitable that it would happen eventually, against such an enemy. What we must do now is find some way to get past the pain, to learn from this experience and use it again Voldemort."

_All around me are familiar faces  
Worn out places, worn out faces  
Bright and early for their daily races  
Going nowhere, going nowhere_

Harry sat quietly in his chair. He had learned long ago that while screaming and shouting helped dull the pain briefly, it didn't fix the underlying problems. Dumbledore had known that, and had tried to teach him. Yes, he had allowed Harry to destroy his office and to pace and scream. But he had always given him something else to think about, something more to work for.

But to some degree, Harry didn't know how much longer this could continue. While he and the Order had managed to destroy Hufflepuff's cup and the snake, Nagini, it still seemed that they were no closer to their goals of ridding the world of Voldemort's malice and evil. They just couldn't catch a break.

"But why?" asked Neville, a catch in his voice. Neville too had changed, especially after he and Luna had become a couple. He had morphed from the fat little boy that was stupid and clumsy into quite a capable wizard, one that they could all be proud of. "Why did it have to be her? She was old, and she was only trying to keep the school alive. Why did Voldemort kill Professor McGonagall? There was no reason to!"

Ginny smiled through her tears. "Maybe he found her hope annoying. She always seemed so stern, so inscrutable. But she was one of the kindest witches I've ever met. She kept her hopes alive through sheer determination. But there'll never be another class for her, no more 'be at class tomorrow.' No tomorrow…."

_Their tears are filling up their glasses  
No expression, no expression  
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow  
No tomorrow, no tomorrow_

Harry sighed, and remembered all of the times that Professor McGonagall had helped him. She had done so much; giving him a place on the Quidditch team, running to him when he had been injured after the third trial, standing up against Umbrage for him among countless other things. He even knew now that she had been present when he had been left on the Dursleys' front step. She had always been there, watching over him and protecting him, like so many other people that were now gone.

He looked around the room, at all the people that were dear to him and whom he loved. And he wondered how many more of them would die before this war was ended. How many other people would he have to look forward to seeing once he, too, entered the void? He dreamed about them, sometimes, all of the faces of the people that were waiting for him. His mother and father, Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric Diggory, Mad-Eye Moody, Hagrid, and now Professor McGonagall….But they were wonderful dreams. Happy dreams. Better than the real life nightmare in which he now lived.

_And I find it kind of funny  
I find it kind of sad  
The dreams in which I'm dying  
Are the best I've ever had  
I find it hard to tell you  
I find it hard to take  
When people run in circles  
It's a very, very  
Mad World  
Mad world_

Harry found his mind wandering, wandering back down through the years when he had first known Professor McGonagall and all of the people that he had loved so much. He could still remember that swelling feeling in his stomach when he had first seen Hogwarts. Gods, it had been so beautiful, standing proudly beside the lake, with lights shining from every window and the spires reaching toward the stars! He had been so happy and so damn scared all at the same time.

Kind of like the way he had felt on his birthday, when Hagrid had knocked down a door and torn down the plans that the Dursleys had had for their foundling nephew. It had been the best birthday ever. That in itself was strange, because he had never felt like that before on his birthday. Usually he had dreaded that day of days, because the Dursleys would either ignore it completely or find ingenious little ways to torment Harry about his orphan and must-be-grateful status. Harry could still remember his pitiful little birthday celebrations in his cupboard, when he would imagine his mother smiling at him over a glowing birthday cake, and his father handing him a wrapped present with a "Happy Birthday, son!"

_Children waiting for the day they feel good  
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday  
And I feel the way that every child should  
Sit and listen, sit and listen _

But at Hogwarts, he wasn't ignored anymore. No indeed, now he was a celebrity, and so was tormented in other ways. To all of the students and most of the staff, he was "that boy with the scar" or "that kid who You-Know-Who couldn't kill" or "Harry Potter, the Chosen One." Ron, Hermione, and a few other kids and teachers eventually learned what he was truly like, but Harry had never completely been able to leave behind his reputation and the expectations of his peers. He had grown to despise that familiar flick of people's eyes as they had looked past his face to his forehead, where resided the lightning shaped scar. "Hello!" he wanted to scream. "That doesn't define me! That's not who I am inside! Ignore the rumors, the gossip, the intrigues, and see me for who I am! I'm a scared little kid, who doesn't have family and who doesn't really know what to do!" He had been scared, then. He was scared now.

"Harry? Are you all right, dear?" Harry started as he realized that Mrs. Weasley had been speaking to him.

"What? Oh. Yeah, Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine. I was just….just remembering."

"A Knut for your thoughts," said Ginny, smiling. Harry smiled back as he took her hand in his. Ginny had only really been distracted by his scar for about ten seconds, when she was ten years old. After that, he knew that she had loved him for his wild black hair, his shining green eyes, and the personality that so few people truly got to see. He appreciated and loved her so much….to much to see her hurt at Voldemort's hands.

"You don't have to pay a Knut, Gin. I was just remembering Professor McGonagall on my first day at Hogwarts. She met the boats at the castle when we first arrived….Blimey, but she scared the living daylights out of me!" Everyone laughed appreciatively, remembering Minerva's stern façade that she couldn't manage to keep erected firmly in place all the time. "But you what? She was never really distracted by "the boy who lived" image. She treated me exactly like everyone else….sometimes to my chagrin. But….she taught us, and taught us well. Even though she's gone now, her work remains. It's alive in all of us."

_Went to school and I was very nervous  
No one knew me, no one knew me  
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson  
Look right through me, look right through me_

Six months later, Harry lay on the ground beside the still body of his long enemy, Voldemort, who was now finally dead. They were in the secret room of the Department of Mysteries, where the powerful force of love reigned supreme. The defenses around the room had been terrible, but Harry had finally managed to break through them and grab Voldemort as he Apparated in. Voldemort had died at the touch of love upon his skin, which proved that Dumbledore had always been correct. Love truly was the most powerful magic.

But love wasn't enough to stop Harry from dying from the curse that Voldemort had sent at him in his last moments of life, before Harry could Apparate inside the room. Even if his friends got to him right at this moment, they couldn't save him. The darkness was already rising in his mind, and he felt his body relaxing its hold upon the world.

A flash of light and a loud boom, and a few people had finally managed to Apparate into the room. Ginny screamed when she saw the still and broken body of Harry lying on the floor. "Harry! Oh, Harry!" She fell to the ground and pulled Harry's head into her lap. "Harry, speak to me! Bloody hell, you can't die like this! You can't die!"

Harry gathered his energy, enough to speak. "Ginny….I always loved you. Don't worry….I'm not afraid to die. Dumbledore and Sirius and my parents…they're all waiting for me. If it weren't for leaving you and Hermione and Ron… I wouldn't be sorry at all…"

"But this isn't the way it was supposed to be," sobbed Ginny. "You were supposed to kill him and then we'd be together for always."

Harry choked for a minute as blood filled his mouth, which Hermione, also leaning over her friend, vanished with a wave of her wand. His mouth clear again, Harry replied, "I know it, Ginny. That's what I wanted, too. But just think, dear…..someday you'll join me…and then we will be together for always….but until then," he said, as he felt his eyes closing, "I'll dream…..dream of you….." And then the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One, quietly entered the void, where he found all of his loved ones waiting for him, and rejoicing at his coming.

_And I find it kind of funny  
I find it kind of sad  
The dreams in which I'm dying  
Are the best I've ever had  
I find it hard to tell you  
I find it hard to take  
When people run in circles  
It's a very, very  
Mad World  
Mad World  
Enlarging your world  
Mad World._


End file.
